GP - Wild Magic 2: Chaotic Evil Boogaloo

London was a magic epicenter of sorts. Between doors to The Otherside, dormant and active portals, and an active wizarding community, it was a hub of energy, more so now than it had been for quite some time. The city was experiencing a magical renaissance of sorts- Which sounded lovely and made it a prime place to be for those exploring and studying magical energies, but wasn't so wonderful for London's more 'normal' sorts.

Magic didn't care if you were a dark lord or a banker, if it liked you, it liked you- And it was impossible to guess who it would like.

Today magic energy was at an all time high. Another blip in the usually somewhat steady stream of power that flowed through the streets. As a result, odd things were afoot- From mischievous inconveniences, to darker disruptions. Unlike the portals, these bothers were a touch more subtle, creeping up unseen on the unsuspecting.

Last time around the magic had seemed lighthearted and playful- And some of it still was, but... There was an intensity to some of it this time, harking back to the troubles that seemed to roll around every Halloween now. Something wicked was caught in the current, and while it wasn't out to harm everyone, it did seem keen to target a few.

(OTA. Just like the last time, the magic can affect your pup however you see fit. Unlike last time, however, some of the magic has taken a darker turn. It doesn't have to do something wicked to your pup, of course, but the option is there now. This post will be open from 7/18-7/28 or longer if needed. Tag in, tag others, and check back often.)

Vacation with Phouka back with his kin had been grand. The grandest. The most grandy-grand anything could ever be. However, Winter was pleased to be back in London. He'd spent most of his time around his kin walking on eggshells, terrified he might infect them all with his new mortal sensibilities. They didn't need that, they had pure joy, and deserved to hold onto it forever and ever. Here among the mortals, however, Winter was free to have as many existential crises as a pixie could possibly have.

And gosh, had he ever been having them.

There was the matter of death and dying, which crept up on the pixie often, leaving him wide-eyed on the sofa in the middle of the night very quietly weeping over those he'd lost, and those he'd inevitably lose eventually. This was always followed by fear of his own death, where the pixie would pour over his phone looking up all the ways his body could fail him if it ever got too mortal- And all the ways it could be destroyed by mortals, many of whom seemed prone to that sort of thing.

The pixie worried about money, the pixie worried about abandonment. The pixie worried about the current political climate, and if a nuclear war could end him. He worried about his friends, he worried about Phouka. ...He worried until he felt sick, then did what any sensible pixie would do- He ate pizza and watched telly to make his brain shut up for a while. Still, pizza and cartoons could only do so much, and while he had considered living the rest of his life on the sofa, that nagging feeling of wasting precious time (that was constantly being taken away from him every time the clock ticked) was enough to nudge him out of the tree house for a bit.

He'd spent the morning busking (without charming anyone for a change), and was trying to decide if he should buy pizza or actual groceries when he felt a sudden chill. It was familiar, too familiar. That feeling of being watched- Watched in a way that made him want to curl up in a corner and wrap his wings around himself.

He felt eyes on him, and when he turned on the sidewalk to see who it was, it was as if his heart had stopped.

Aspid looked younger than Winter had ever known him to be, but the pixie knew those eyes. He'd know them anywhere. They haunted his dreams even now, after all this time. They were etched into his skull, where he knew they'd remain forever.

"You're not here," the pixie said softly. "You're not here, it's a trick- You're not here, Aspid."

Aspid said nothing, he only moved closer. Winter wanted to run, but he found himself stone still, taking in the short brown locks that he'd always known to be white and stringy, and the short cropped beard that was nothing like the wiry stubble the wizard had so often sported.

"I am though. I'm right here, Winter. Look at me- Touch me, if you like," the wizard offered. The suggestion alone made the pixie recoil.

Aspid moved closer, and Winter- Winter was lost. In that moment he was nothing more than a child. A tiny creature, helpless and lost, and when Aspid gently caught hold of his arm, the pixie whimpered.

"I'm not making you do anything, Winter. You'll come back, because you want to come back," Aspid assured him, giving his arm a light tug, and smiling when the pixxie seemed to let himself be pulled closer.

Back at Halloween, Winter had gotten her away from Rockhouse at a time she'd been just as frozen by horror even though all the logic in the world had told her that it couldn't have been her father before her.

Whoever this was, he had Winter in the same way, fear and sick longing and old trodden paths of habit. Winter wasn't screaming like she had, but it was in every line of him.

Humming a tune of comfort and protection, Curnen reached out and took his hand, giving it a little tug.

Aspid, or the image of him, seemed to break apart, splitting into horizontal lines as his skin and hair altered colours. It was magic of some sort, but the way it malfunctioned in the face of Curnen's tune seemed almost electronic. It was like some sort of magical glitch, pixelated and correcting itself as best it could.

That disruption in the spell was enough to snap Winter out of it, and he pulled away from Aspid to stand closer to Curnen.

"You're not Aspid," he told it, looking over at Curnen with a worried glance. "It's wearing the image of my dead master, but that's not him."

The creature seemed to glitch again, the features shifting slowly as it started to focus on Curnen instead.

"Don't you fucking dare," she barked at it. "He's dead and drained and buried on Emania Knob. Who else you got? Bo-Kate Wisby? Someone shot her in the goddamn head like they should have done sixty years ago. Anybody you got that's scary enough, they've been put down. Do your fucking worst."

Winter didn't know who he was seeing now, he only knew it couldn't be good. None of this was good, and impulsively the pixie ducked low and picked up some rocks and began throwing them at the being.

"Go away!" the pixie shouted, the rocks gliding through the being, causing it to flicker and glitch again, and it began to alternate between Curnen's husband and the man Winter feared most, morphing, and occasionally getting stuck somewhere between the two, lingering as a horrific vision.

The image of Brushy twisting together with that other face was just what Curnen needed to snap herself out of her stupor. Now she was angry.

Her face twisting with rage, Curnen's hands performed a series of sharp, complex gestures. Her husband was most certainly dead, and whether or not the other was, it didn't matter terribly. He was still part of Winter's past, and that was good enough to tell her how to dispel the magic. It couldn't, wouldn't, fool them with the faces of those who were gone.

The song was a traditional Irish farewall, and she sang it harsh enough to bite.

Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company.And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me.And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.

The creature snarled at her, the song clearly causing it pain as it began glitching and distorting more and more, before giving up on Crunen and latching back onto Winter. Aspid returned, and the pixie tensed before finally lashing out.

Ice engulfed the being, freezing it in place for a moment before it glitched again and shattered.

"That was a terrible jump scare," Winter said softly, kicking one of the scraps of ice and frowning to himself.

Sympathetic, Winter reached over and rubbed her arm. His mind was still on Aspid though, the feeling of the wizard's fingers on his skin. He was seeing Aspid more and more lately, and it was starting to feel like the man was somehow above death, crawling his way back to life.

"I know, but he could be pulling the strings," the pixie insisted, though there wasn't much conviction in his words. "...Curnen, it's getting worse, isn't it? It's not just me, not just my head whispering sour things, right? There's something bad flowing through the city. Something sinister is coming for us all."

Winter embraced her without hesitation, holding on tight and ducking his head to press a kiss to the top of hers.

"I wish I wasn't afraid," he admitted quietly, pausing, then looking apologetic. "I didn't mean to say the w-word. I never know who I can say it to without making trouble, but it always slips out anyways... You know what I mean though. I'd be happy to be brave in the face of all this magical trouble."

"You're all right," Curnen assured him. It was something about her old world kin that she didn't understand. If any of her kind reacted like that to those words, they'd have all been outed centuries ago. "And yeah. I know."